


Spectator

by oloros



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Slice of Life, short-sightedness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oloros/pseuds/oloros
Summary: Connor forms a delicate alliance with Gavin Reed when he plays his part as a text-to-speech device.
Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95





	1. Not-So-Warm Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something short and sweet I wanted to work on while I manage my bigger story. :)

Connor was bored.

The only work they had received today was in the form of case histories, and that job to fell to Hank. He had complained several times, but even if Connor wanted to complete the work for him, he wasn’t authorised to do so. So, he sat at his desk, fiddling with a pen and scanning the office until every detail was embedded into his memory bank.

“You wanna get me a coffee?” Hank asked. He claimed it helped him focus, but Connor suspected that this time around it was simply to get him out of his seat and away from the area. He had already been barked at for staring at Hank for so long that it was ‘creeping him out.’ In his defence, he hadn’t actually been staring at Hank, just trying to see what an officer was doing on their terminal behind him.

Connor nodded and pushed himself up from his seat. He weaved through the desks, giving polite greetings to the officers and detectives he passed them by. Fowler’s office was empty; he must have been tending to something important. He had been called to a lot of meetings lately. Involving androids, Connor suspected. The revolution had brought a bountiful amount of interesting work to the department.

The break room was empty aside from one person. It was Gavin Reed, bent over the circular table, squinting at a magazine under his palms. Connor knew better than to call his attention. He was snappy, and especially so on busy days. He had come to learn that Reed was the type not opposed to drawing a gun on something as tame as a suggestion for him to calm down.

Connor turned his back to him and grabbed a paper cup. There were three choices for how the coffee would come out: cold, warm and hot. Hank had expressed distaste whenever his coffees went cold, but Connor didn’t want him to damage his taste-buds; he had a bad habit of consuming something before checking the temperature. He chose the middle button and placed the cup into the groove of the machine, watching it fill.

He heard a hiss behind him, a slight smack of the lips and the shifting of clothing. The wrinkling of paper filled the air as Reed turned some pages rapidly. Connor quietly moved his feet to position himself side-on, watching the man curiously. He seemed to be frustrated.

Reed’s face was closer to the pages, and his nose was wrinkled below furrowed eyebrows. Connor scanned the magazine he was focused on. It was in relation to a new gym opening, detailing the equipment available and the different plans they offered. His scan was cut off as Reed leaned even closer, blocking his line of sight.

The machine pinged as the coffee was topped up. Connor retracted the skin from his index finger and dipped it into the liquid. It was warm as promised, not cold but not hot enough to cause any damage. He picked it up and carefully walked to the table, standing across from Reed and placing it on the surface.

“Are you having trouble reading?” He asked.

Reed looked offended. “’Course not, I’m not a fuckin’ kid.”

Connor scanned his features; his eyes were recovering from being out of focus. “I can read it for you, if you’d like,” he offered.

“What?” Reed scowled. “I told you, I ain’t a kid. I don’t need some text-to-speech robot readin’ shit out to me.”

As irritating as he could be, Connor found him fascinating. There was no logical reason for him to be so needlessly aggressive, yet it’s what he chose to do. Asking the other detectives for a semblance of upfront kindness from Reed was a fruitless task, but he knew that humans were incredibly complex. They were as advanced as any machine. Connor wondered what Reed’s directives would be, were he an android.

_Primary Directive: Be Angry._

“What’re you smilin’ for?”

Connor shook his head. “Nothing. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some help?”

Reed discarded the magazine to the side. “Perfectly fuckin’ sure, plastic.”

Connor peered at the bottom paragraph. “The cheapest subscription would be the second one, as you pay less over a larger period of time.” He held the coffee firm in his hand and exited the room. “See you around, Detective Reed.”

Hank’s coffee was a little cold when he returned to the desk. He didn’t complain, but he did ask what Connor had been doing that took so long.

Connor simply told him the machine had malfunctioned. That’s why his coffee wasn’t warm.


	2. Excuse Me?

It was easy to forget Hank was in a position of authority sometimes.

Connor was under his wing; whatever he said goes. But that had been ingrained into his programming, nothing he had to question or think about. It was jarring to him when he was called to official business. How quick the grumpy, careless man he had come to enjoy the company of would switch into a professional lieutenant.

Captain Fowler had spoken to him about it privately; how Hank’s work had picked up since he continued to partner with him past the revolution. Connor took it in stride, and as reassurance that he wasn’t being a nuisance by sticking by Hank’s side. It felt good, he decided, to influence a human’s life to that degree. He couldn’t pinpoint an exact way in which Hank had changed his life, but it was likely because there was no exact reason.

Hank had changed everything. That’s why he liked Hank.

Connor was ripped from his thoughts when a hand slammed against the front of his desk.

“Read this.”

Connor tilted his head. “Excuse me?”

Reed gestured to the file placed roughly on the surface. It was in pristine condition. Connor had noticed he took good care of his documents. “You said you’d help me. Read it,” he said.

“You said you didn’t need help.”

“And you kept sayin’ you weren’t a deviant.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. That was a low blow. He twirled the file to face him and opened it, skimming the contents. “What did you want read?”

Reed pointed to the first half of the second page. It was a condensed list of notes, printed in smaller writing than its preceding text.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Detective Reed?”

Reed’s lip twitched but there were no indications of rejection.

“Are you short-sighted?”

“You really needed to ask me that? I thought you were ‘sposed to be advanced.” Reed snorted. “Look, I normally wear contacts, ‘kay? Just can’t find replacements so easy lately.”

“I can order some for you, if you’d specify –“

Reed held a finger to his lips. “Just read the notes, yeah? I can organise my own shit.”

Connor watched him, then looked down at the papers. “Sure.”

They were nothing complex, stating the evidence collected from the scene of a break-in. There were several items found with fingerprints, all matching a middle-aged woman who lived adjacent to the victim. It stated the crime scene was sloppy and was more likely a last-minute decision than planned out. The woman had been taken into holding and was being approved for questioning.

“… suspected motive is revenge,” he finished. His LED cycled back to blue.

Reed snatched the file away and nodded. “Good.”

“I’ve sent you a document containing the notes in a larger font,” Connor tipped his head to the direction of Reed’s terminal.

Reed stuttered in his movements, like he had intended to move but decided against it. He inclined his head. “Thanks,” he rushed out, and once he was sure Connor had heard it, returned to his own desk.

Connor tried not to think much of it. Humans had an odd aversion to being openly kind.


	3. No Feelings Involved!

The next time Connor was alone with Detective Reed was a surprise to them both.

The break-in case he had been investigating turned out to be a more serious matter than they had first thought. The woman was confirmed to have done it several times in the past, the only difference being they weren’t people she knew. As she was already placed under custody and considered an offender, a warrant wasn’t needed for a search and it was only a few days before Reed was asked to perform one at her residence.

They decided they would let an android accompany him to the scene for more thorough searching.

Connor was the only police android specifically designed for evidence locating and deducing.

He had not received a friendly welcome when he arrived on the scene. Reed insisted he take his own vehicle, and that was fine with Connor aside from the knock down on efficiency and the boredom of taking a taxi. Reed didn’t say much when he arrived, only walked to the front door and gave him an odd look when he didn’t immediately follow.

He became more receptive the more Connor pointed out finer details, things the human eye wouldn’t normally catch if not trained. Reed’s eyes were still fed to his scanners as unfocused, so it was safe to assume his human eye was below untrained.

“The motive was listed as a suspected revenge,” Connor voiced in a moment of silence. “That doesn’t line up with the rest of the break-ins.”

Reed’s head bobbed up from behind a large double bed. “Yeah, ‘cause you don’t involve your friends in your career,” he said. He clicked his tongue at the array of stolen items they had placed on the mattress. “Even if it’s a criminal one.”

Connor approached the bed and ran through the values of each item. He raised his eyebrows. “She could’ve easily made a couple thousand dollars with this. Maybe more.”

“Eh, it’s not that impressive.” Reed had his head lowered, scribbling notes on paper for his report. “They’re pretty easy to take out, and the resell price is high for tech nerds. Most stuff people own these days gives back more than they take unless you wreck ‘em, and even then, there’s always someone willin’ to buy it.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Connor said.

The comment seemed to shock Reed, and it almost slipped away before he found a response. “Yeah, well, I ain’t dumb, and while you and Booze-a-lot run ‘round tellin’ androids what’s what, I have to deal with the other shit.”

Connor smiled. “I think the other shit is quite interesting.”

Reed gave him a critical look. “Never heard you swear before.”

“It’s impolite,” he said, “And doesn’t usually progress a conversation.”

“Impolite…” Reed scoffed, tucking his pen into his pocket and looking away. His eyes drifted along the floors, then his eyebrows creased as he noticed the tip of something poking out under the bed. “What’s that?”

Connor trailed his movements and pursed his lips when he realised what it was. “I didn’t think it was important. It’s an old magazine that was issued by CyberLife.”

Reed placed his notes onto the bed and bent down to pick it up. “Hah, looks like one of the sex magazines!” He squinted and cocked his head to the left. “They make the writin’ so small, though. You come read it, Text-To-Speech.”

Connor begrudgingly obliged. “It’s an advertisement for at-home Traci models.” He leaned over Reed’s shoulder to skim the text. “‘CyberLife has manufactured specialised androids for you or your partner’s sexual needs. They will indulge in any act, no matter how niche, and are programmed to respond to over five hundred pet names. A better sex experience: no feelings involved!’”

“I wonder if that’s what she was stealin’ for,” Reed snickered. “Imagine gettin’ all this crap just to buy a sex android.”

Connor frowned. “Androids aren’t retail objects anymore.”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Please, we don’t know how long she’s been doin’ this for! Could’ve just gotten sloppy cause her whole purpose for doin’ it was null after the revolution.”

“Did you share a similar sentiment?” Connor asked.

He found some pride in the way Reed did a double take, as if to reaffirm what he had just heard. “Shut up, I ain’t no freak!”

“I know.” The edge of Connor’s voice was soft with sincerity.

Reed was predictably uncomfortable with the sudden change of tempo. He skirted around Connor and stood in the middle of the room, taking out a camera to snap a few photos of the area around the bed. “Hope you logged everythin’, cause I’m done with this place.”

“Sure. I’ll see you at the station.”

Reed sighed, heavily, like he had just won an argument Connor couldn’t hear. “Just come in the car with me. Hurry up or I’m leavin’ you behind.”

They didn’t talk on the drive back, but Connor did appreciate the company.


	4. Call Me Gavin

Connor’s newfound partnership didn’t end at the search.

Reed requested his presence for the suspect’s questioning. It made sense for anyone else; Connor was a portable dispenser of information. He had a near limitless capacity for information and could retrieve a quote quicker than it was said. But Reed wasn’t always a man of sense. His emotions seemed to be a driving point for him, and they tended to be negative.

It was even more unusual that he wasn’t greeted with a snide remark or an exasperated sigh. Reed cut straight to the point when Connor approached him, leaned against the door of the interrogation room, tapping his foot impatiently. “You just read from the files, make up a story, and I’ll get ‘em to crack. Got it?”

“Got it,” Connor affirmed. His reason for being included made sense now, though he assumed Reed would’ve found a different substitute for his eye problem by this point, given his distaste for working with androids.

He learnt that Reed was extremely professional in the interrogation room.

His blatant disregard for politeness in the workplace always made Connor think he was one of the more… relaxed workers. The type to cut a case shorter so he would finish his shift on time, rather than being involved and dedicated to figuring something out thoroughly. But with each line of evidence Connor presented from the files, Reed would hone in on the suspect like a spider watching its prey, tracking their movements, echoing flawed stories back to them and twisting words until he spun a perfect web in which they were trapped.

It took only an hour for him to gain a clear motive, corrections to holes in the story and a reliable confession for the suspect to be judged with.

Connor admired him.

“They’re always the same,” Reed said once they were alone. They stood at his desk, watching the suspect as they were escorted back to their holding cell. “Barely even a challenge.”

“You were very efficient,” Connor said. He hoped the compliment sounded genuine. “You’re a good detective.”

He expected the same attitude he received all the other times he interacted with the man. A glance to the side, a scoff and a change of subject. Reed instead stared at him, long enough that Connor began to wonder if he had even heard it, then said, “Yeah, thanks. You’re pretty good for readin’, I ‘spose.”

Connor dipped his head politely. “Thank you, Detective Reed.”

Reed looked him up and down then half-smiled, teasing but not unkind. “Enough with the formal shit already, just call me Gavin.” He nodded to Hank’s desk, “You can go back to your owner now.”

Connor left; he didn’t want to push his luck. He wanted to get to know Gavin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I underestimated how I'd like to wrap up this story so... more than four chapters inbound!


	5. Drunken Fun

Connor felt a sense of deja vu as he stood outside Jimmy’s Bar.

It was late at night, it was raining and the only difference from his last encounter would be the lack of an android ban. He hadn’t gone into work with Hank earlier, as Sumo was unwell and he didn’t like the idea of the dog spending time alone when he wasn’t at his best. Androids were a grey area when it came to employment in the police department, so Hank didn’t complain much. He said he would enjoy the quiet.

When it came past his shift, he didn’t return home, and Connor gave it a couple hours before he acted on his worries. He checked the station first, finding it mostly empty of day shift workers, and Chicken Feed was closed once the sun set. Hank had toned down on the alcohol in recent months but searching bars was still worth a try, Connor had decided. Jimmy’s Bar wasn’t far from his house.

The bar had a different atmosphere compared to his last visit. He didn’t receive any odd, disdainful looks. It was rare to see androids in bars, seeing as alcohol was useless to them, but it was nice to be allowed in one without getting complaints. The owner was still notorious for his bias against androids, but the law demanded him to open his doors to them. Walking in, the area was crawling with drunk people, some singing, some shouting and one sobbing to himself from the bathroom.

Connor stood at the counter and scrutinised each corner of the bar, but he couldn’t see Hank anywhere. Instead, he found a face that was familiar for an entirely different reason.

“Plastic!” Gavin approached him with a pointed finger. His eyes were glazed and he had a deep frown on his face. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

Connor leaned back to avoid being poked in the chest. “I’m looking for Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Of course you are.” Gavin laughed. It was rough and mean, with a sharp edge. “You’re always fuckin’ lookin’ for him, like some lost mutt or somethin’. You really gotta get a hobby, y’know that?”

Connor registered his blood-alcohol concentration to be high. “You’re drunk. Would you like me to call you a taxi?”

Gavin waved him off. “I don’t need your fuckin’ help. Who says I wanna leave?” He stepped closer, holding his face close. “Why’re you always workin’ for humans, huh? Aren’t you ‘sposed to be free?”

“I am _choosing_ to help humans, Detective Reed.” Connor pressed a palm against his chest to keep him from advancing.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Gavin?” He swayed on his feet but appeared undeterred in moving closer. “Y’know, you’re a really bad robot… if I was you, I’d be livin' the life… don’t get tired, always lookin’ pretty, knowin’ everything… wouldn’t take shit from no-one.”

Connor grimaced, mind buzzing temporarily as he contacted the taxi service. He pushed Gavin away when their chests threatened to touch, causing him to stumble back into someone behind him. A slew of curses followed, and Gavin’s face contorted with anger as he pushed himself off of the man, turning to face Connor. He curled his hand into a fist, swinging with as much force as an intoxicated detective could muster.

Connor stepped aside to avoid the punch. Gavin toppled forwards, his fist connecting with the poor drunken man that had been standing behind Connor.

The owner, Jimmy Peterson, slammed his hands against the counter to draw their attention. “Knock it off!”

The sequence of events that followed were both chaotic and comical. The orders barked by Jimmy fell on deaf ears as the two men Gavin had made contact with moved to attack him, crashing into eachother when he inelegantly slipped out of their paths. The shouting and sounds of punches attracted onlookers, and eventually partakers. Connor had never witnessed a bar fight with his own eyes and he thought it was quite the sight to behold. Sweaty, mindless humans beating eachother because one mishap had taken place.

He weaved through the combat as the fight spread like a wildfire, the urge to join in infecting a majority of the bar. He was lucky enough to be lithe and unaware-looking, making him unnoticeable to the irate people writhing around him. He had to find Gavin, get him out of the fray and into a taxi before he did something he was going to regret. A member of the police force had no business fighting in bars.

He found Gavin sprawled along the couch of a booth at the back, held down by the throat. The man restricting him was staunch and muscly, with a greying handlebar moustache and small, beady eyes. Connor tapped him on the shoulder and pulled him back, bumping him against a wall in the process. He pulled Gavin up by the arm and kept a firm grip.

The man was startled by the sudden contact with the wall, but was quick to regain his muddled senses, and along with it a thirst for revenge. He swung a firm fist at Connor’s cheek, causing his head to snap to the side and his balance to shatter. Connor used his grip on Gavin to keep himself upright, as shaky as it was, righting his vision and ducking to avoid another oncoming blow. He pulled Gavin with him, away from the area and back towards the counter.

“You ain’t gonna fight back?” Gavin asked. Connor thought he could see a mild concern, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“No,” he said calmly. “We’re going to leave.”

If Gavin wanted to continue fighting, he didn’t express it. He allowed himself to be guided around by Connor, manoeuvring through the fights. When they reached the entrance, Connor was jerked back by the back of his shirt and twirled around to face the angry man with the moustache. He had cleared a path through the room, it seemed, simply to take his rage out on the easiest target in the room: an android.

Things had changed drastically since the revolution. Androids were given the rights to individuality, home ownership, adoption, reproduction and employment. They were allowed in areas they otherwise wouldn’t have been, and the public became more accepting to their presence. However, prejudice still ran amok and attacks on androids had a very high rate. People saw them as easy victims when they were in a more ambiguous legal area than humans. They didn’t often expect androids to fight back, because the repercussions for doing so were still so uncertain.

Connor was not so uncertain when it had reached a point where he was getting impeded from completing his goal. He did not like to have obstacles in his way.

He punched the man in the nose, a solid force that cracked the cartilage. Blood seeped out of his nostrils and he stepped back, clutching at the wounded area with calloused, greasy hands.

“I’m sorry, but you were in my way,” Connor said, pulling Gavin closer to his side. He pushed the door open behind them and dipped his head. “Have a good night.”

“Woah.” Gavin grinned at him like a schoolboy. Both old and fresh blood washed from his skin under the pouring rain. He had a visible bruise on his right eye, and a deep cut on his lip, but appeared otherwise unharmed.

The taxi beeped softly between the shouting from the bar and whistling of the wind. It parked up in front of them and slid a door open, allowing Connor to escort the drunken detective inside. Gavin was considerably more sluggish, with the adrenaline from the fights beginning to wear off, barely managing to state his address and bid Connor a tired farewell.

Connor watched the taxi drive away with an amused smile. He didn’t have much room to ruminate when he heard the shouting come closer to the door. He left for the next bar quickly, taking some quieter streets just in case.

It turned out Hank had gotten caught up in conversation with an old friend he bumped into. Connor felt embarrassed for his relentless searching, but he _did_ have an interesting story to tell.


	6. Standard Protocol

Well, this was certainly different, Connor thought.

Like what had preceded such an odd series of events, he and Gavin were alone in the break-room again. Gavin was at the rounded table, a magazine on the table and a familiar scowl on his face. Connor hadn’t come to make Hank a coffee this time, though – he had made a beeline for Gavin when he saw an opportunity for a moment alone.

“How are you feeling?” He asked. The cut on Gavin’s lip had scabbed over and the skin around his eyes had regained its natural colour.

“Fine.” Gavin grumbled, “You better not have told anyone ‘bout it.”

“I didn’t.” Connor placed both arms onto the surface of the table and leaned slightly one side to get a better look at Gavin’s face. He quirked a brow before adding, “It was quite funny, though.”

Gavin smiled a little at that, but it faded as quickly as it came. Surely he saw the humour in the situation too, Connor thought. It was just them, a human and an android – he didn’t have to act so prideful.

“Can’t believe you punched that guy,” Gavin said. “I thought for sure you were goin’ the pussy route.”

Connor cringed and averted his eyes. “He wasn’t going to leave us alone if I didn’t. It was the most efficient thing to do.”

“Reason all you want, you still punched him pretty good.” Gavin laughed, and this time it wasn’t bitter. It sounded nice, like when Hank laughed at one of his own jokes.

Connor noticed his eyes go low, down to the magazine that he had picked up. His eyes weren’t unfocused, and he appeared to be reading fine.

“You can read,” Connor stated.

Gavin looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

Connor raised his eyebrows and nodded his head to the magazine.

“I got my contacts at the start of the week,” Gavin said. “Sad I don’t need you anymore, Text-To-Speech?”

Connor almost let him continue reading. Almost. The timeframe slipped him by for just a second before he realised one crucial detail. “That was before the interrogation. What did you need me for?”

“Man, ain’t you supposed to be one of the smart robots?” Gavin tapped a finger to his temple. “It’s standard protocol to take your partner with you.”

“And the reading?” Connor pressed.

Gavin shrugged. “I just wanted to see if you’d do it. Plus, saves me some time.”

He placed the magazine back on the table and pushed it towards Connor before making his exit. The magazine had an advertisement for honey-scented dog shampoo. Connor couldn’t help but stare at him as he returned to his desk.


	7. Blue Jays In The Trees

Birds sung from their trees, children laughed from the playground and Connor let a calm sense of serene wash over him as he followed the footpath. The park was his favourite place to take Sumo. Even when he couldn’t convince Hank to come along on the walk and handle Sumo’s leash, he could still find minutes where he could take in his surroundings. No matter how many times he saw the blue jays, they never lost their colour.

He had been out for a while and Sumo was starting to pant, so on their second lap he curved onto the path that led to the front gate. Sumo knew where it led and slowed his pace so his leash relaxed and he ambled by Connor’s hip.

Bumping into Gavin was inevitable. He seemed to be everywhere Connor was.

Gavin had been staring at his feet and bumped into Connor’s chest, catching himself before he could fall and glaring at his attacker. His eyes softened when he recognised Connor. There was no disdain or contempt, just recognition.

“Hello, Gavin.” Connor didn’t attempt to restrain Sumo when he jumped at the man.

“Hank’s elusive hound,” Gavin said, smoothing his hand along Sumo’s back. “Never thought I’d get to see ‘im, with the dog policy and all.”

“It’s a standard in every workplace.” Connor looked over him. He had headphones draped over his neck, a thin cord connecting into a player seated comfortably in his pants’ pockets. He never thought he would see Gavin out of a jacket; even on hot days, he would wear a thin one to the station. This time, he wore a plain red shirt with grey jeans. It was oddly colourful against his usual style. “Are you out for a walk?”

“You really like pointin’ out the obvious, don’tcha?” Gavin rubbed his knuckles against Sumo’s ears, eliciting a content grumble from the hound. He stood up straight when Sumo was thoroughly blissed out. “The gym was closed today, so I figured I’d get my exercise here. That a problem?”

“No.”

Sumo returned to Connor’s side and they stood across from eachother in silence. Connor didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t want to leave, and from the expression on Gavin’s face, he felt similarly. He was unfamiliar in an exciting sort of way. Gavin had punched him, punished him for stealing jobs, called him a variety of names. He had threatened him with a gun more than once. Connor was used to the animosity that would glow from him whenever he was around, how he looked at him as if he wasn’t anything more than a rusted piece of metal waiting to be repurposed.

Gavin was different from Detective Reed. He was still dishevelled and mean looking, with messy hair and half-closed eyes. His lips were still chapped and downturned, but his shoulders were relaxed and his eyebrows weren’t furrowed. He always wore a certain look on his face when he was scheming up a new creative insult to use, something to prove his dominance over whoever he had chosen to bully that day. Connor didn’t see any of it that moment, standing in front of him on the footpath, surrounded by the trees with the blue jays.

“You leaving?” Gavin asked.

Connor cleared his thoughts. “Yes. I don’t want to overexercise Sumo.”

Gavin snorted. “I’ll come with you, then. Hank’s house ain’t that far, right?”

“You’ll… come with me?” Connor blinked thrice, like the words never entered his mind. “I can assure you, I’m perfectly capable of walking back myself.”

“I beg to differ. You’re a magnet for trouble.” Gavin stepped to his side and pushed him forwards. “There’s been a lotta android attacks lately. We wouldn’t want _both_ of Hank’s pets getting hurt, right?”

Connor narrowed his eyes, looking for the scornful look that followed the insult. There wasn’t one this time; just a playful smile.

“Of course,” he said.

He liked Gavin, he decided. He was mean, he was noisy and he had the temper of a rattlesnake. However, beneath that, somewhere in the mix of insecurities, anger and ambition, he was as human as Hank. Hank had hated androids too, when he first met Connor. But then he changed.

And maybe Gavin could change, too.


End file.
